Perfect Girls
by Aoshi'sgirlinstraightjacket
Summary: Kagura is a fashion designer and is completely fed up with dressing skeletons. Sesshoumaru despises anything that resembles a whale. When Kagura becomes Zukia Tashio's apprentice she tries to prove him wrong...plus she completely falls in love with him.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter One

"I'm so fat."

Kagura rolled her eyes at the superficial woman standing on the stool. She just wanted to stab her with the needles pinned between her teeth.

"You're not fat." Kagura expertly mumbled. She straightened the woman's arm back out. She seriously couldn't keep still.

"Then why doesn't the dress fit?" she bent her arm again as she looked down at Kagura.

"The skirt bunched more than it should have for you hips. That's my fault. I shouldn't have sewn it so tightly." Kagura said, guiding the needle through the fabric/

"I should be able to fit into anything." the woman protested.

"You do, as long as it isn't a size one or up." Kagura replied as she finished the billowing skirt.

An attendant with a headset came and tapped on the woman's shoulder.

"You're up, Amanda."

She waved him off with her hand. "I'm ready, I'll be there."

Kagura handed her a satin purse as Amanda stepped off the stool and walked away on her five inch heels.

"Break a leg." Kagura said optimistically. She held the smile as the model disappeared behind the curtain and onto the runway. Upbeat music faded in and out as the heavy curtain fell back into place.

Her smile instantly fell. "Not like it would take much to break those scrawny chicken legs anyway." she muttered.

She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Eleven more models, Twenty three fore to-die-for dresses that look deformed on sickly bodies."

"Okay, Poe. Enough with the depraved poetry. There's a walking stick waiting to be dressed." The hair dresser, Ayame, said. The two women laughed at the joke.

"I thought it was a gay man! Do they make negative sizes in bras theses days?" Kagura chuckled while already adjusting the corset on the next dress.

The model didn't even notice they were making fun of her. She just looked around aimlessly until she spotted a hot guy- which she then pulled on a "sexy" face. It just turned out to be the blank face she used on the ramp.

"No." Ayame replied, twisting blonde hair around a hot curling iron. "They just pop the cups inside out."

The women laughed again but quickly hushed as the tall man that the model was posing for walked by.

Kagura snorted. "He thinks he's all that." she said.

Ayame gave her a wary glance. "That's Sesshoumaru Taisho...he _**is**_ all that."

"I know who he is." Kagura said scornfully. "I just think he's a rich brat who just happened upon the fashion industry. Unlike the rest of us, who had to work hard to get here."

"He didn't _**happen **_upon the fashion industry. His mom designs _Master _which is up there with, like, Chanel and Coach and Dolce & Gabbana..."

Kagura ignored her as she rattled off more designer names. She knew who Sesshoumaru's mom was. Everybody did. But hadn't Sesshoumaru lived with his father ever since his parents divorced?

"Who is this?"

Everyone turned to the male voice that had just boomed the question.

"The model, sir?" An attendant asked, quivering and holding her clipboard close to her chest.

"You call her a model? She looks like an elephant."

Kagura's eyes widened as she realized it was Amanda's arm Sesshoumaru had a hold of. She quickly made her way through the gathering crowd to get to her model.

"Who is the designer that hired you?" he demanded.

Amanda's face was screwed up from the insult and she jerked away in defiance.

"I'm not telling you! Not after.."

"I am." Kagura said, breaking through the crowd.

Sesshoumaru's cold, steely eyes averted towards her and everyone grew silent as he looked her up and down

"You are the designer of this dress?" he asked, lifting the skirt away from Amanda's legs.

"Yes. I believe that is what I just said." she huffed.

"And how far did you have to let it out to get it to fit on this beast."

Amanda's jaw dropped as she ran to stand by Kagura, who seemed to be keeping her composure.

"I didn't...just a few adjustments of the drawn skirt. Everyone makes adjustments for hip and shoulder width and things like that." she said cooly.

More girls came off the catwalk and stopped as they removed the dresses to get ready for the next one. The crowd outside murmured when the ramp was empty, knowing the show wasn't over.

"I insist you get a new model and dismiss this one immediately." he demanded.

Kagura paused, listening to the music outside but no heels on the glass.

"Girls, circle around! Start with Cameron." she yelled, scurrying everyone to the next outfit.

Amanda looked at her in surprise. "You're firing me?" she asked in a quiet voice. Her haughty nature from before was gone and in it's place stood an innocent, scared girl.

Kagura turned her head. "No. You're going to wear the last dress. You're not ready to start the next round." And with that she turned towards the vanities with Amanda in tow.

Sesshoumaru caught her elbow before he lost her in the crowd. "You aren't taking my advice? You'll regret that." he said icily.

Kagura growled and stepped closer, inched from him. "The fact is, Sesshoumaru, there is still a fashion show going on here and if I fire her now, that leaves me with an extra dress to model; and I'm sure you don't want to wear it, do you?" she asked crossing her arms.

Sesshoumaru backed off. "Carry on." he said before walking away to criticize another an attendant.

"That's what I thought." Kagura sai before taking a grateful Amanda's arm and handing her the final dress.

Alright. So kind of another short chapter. And not very interesting for that matter. You'll have to forgive me...I took that ACT today and my mind is a total blank. I promise, though, there will be more out soon.

Sincerely, _straightjacket_


	2. Chapter 2

I'm sure 'I'm sorry' doesn't cut it right now. I don't even know how long I've been off but I have a reasonable excuse. My computer caught a virus. We'll be getting one at home for Christmas, thankfully. Until then, I'll be writing at my grandmother's for two days.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Can I help you with something, ma'am?"

A woman came up behind Kagura who was sifting through spools of fabric. The Fabric Factory was the place where designers who were "in the know" went to buy their exclusive fabrics. Egyptian cotton, leather from England cows, and winter fox fur were only a few of the things that Kagura had at her finger tips. Of course, she did a few months ago.

"Where is your British leather?" Kagura asked, slightly frustrated. She blew a bang out of her eyes. "I've looked everywhere."

Looking everywhere was a great feat. The Fabric Factory was a huge two story tin building set in a rarely traveled valley of California.

"We've recently stopped stocking British leather." The assistant replied. "We only provide California leather and economical 'pleather'." She stated proudly.

Kagura glanced up from the dark maroon velvet she was admiring. All thoughts of the fall show and Russian themes left her head. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The employee turned and walked in a different direction, signaling Kagura to follow her. She was led to a section that had a sign above it marked "Green".

"Management has decided that we should start selling more economy friendly materials. Society is happy with us. Not to mention it's cheaper for us and for you."

Kagura's stomach dropped. The pleather came in all sorts of disgustingly bright orange and blue colors, some with the antique finish and some with the high gloss. She shoved her hand in a nearby fur and grimaced at the gristly feel of faux leopard.

"Of course," the assistant continued, "if you're not yet used to the fake appeal we still carry Cali cow." She said cheerfully.

That drew the line for Kagura. She turned on her heel to face the taller girl. Her name tag said that her name was Anna. "Where is Brooke Hastings?" She asked briskly.

"She was fired when the new management took over."

"New management. Oh well that makes perfect sense." She said with a smile.

"What does?" Anna said, still cheerful.

"Brooke would have never done this because Brooke realizes that quality means everything. Brooke realizes that the 'real deal' is the only deal. Brooke realizes that California cows are meant for milk and cheese not for jackets and boots. Thank you for you time." She said as she started walking away. "Unfortunately, I won't be needing it anymore." And with that she slammed the door.

Anna stood there in pure shock. There went the last of their customers.

Kagura whipped out her Blackberry and held down the 3. She thanked whoever was listening when it rang instead of the busy signal. She couldn't count the number of hours she had waited to get Brooke on the phone. This time, though, she picked up on the fourth ring.

"Brooke Hastings." Came her curt answer.

"Brooke, this is Kagura." She said with a smile. It was nice being on a first name basis with your fabric and thread supplier.

"Kagura! How are you? When are you coming by? I just got in a new shipping of tiger."

Kagura opened her car door and slipped into the driver's seat. "That's what I'm calling you about. I just stepped out of the Factory. Seems there's new management."

There was a pause. "You didn't know?"

"Apparently not. What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm in New York. I work out of Master now. I thought I told you that."

Kagura stopped at a stop sign and gaped. "Master? That's wonderful. How did you pull that off?"

"A friend, of a friend, of a friend new Zukia. I could have sworn a called you or e-mailed you or something."

"You might have. I've been really busy with the back-to-back shows." She still couldn't believe it. Master was amazing. Zukia was born into a billion-are family. Her grandmother started designing in Japan many years ago. The business was then passed down to her mother that was then passed down to her.

"You need to come up here and meet her. I've been dropping hints and she seems interested."

Kagura almost wrecked. The other person honked their horn at her and sped past her. "How can you tell?"

"Well, she actually listens instead of spewing off some nonsense about French models. And then I found her on the internet looking at your website and your models. She hardly knows how to use the internet. She gets her computer techs to do that for her."

Kagura was skeptical. "Maybe she's just looking at one of my models."

"No." Brooke insisted. "She's looking at you. I'm telling you catch the next plane and come to New York."

"Okay. I will." Kagura took a deep breath and then went into business mode. "But you understand that I work with my hairstylist and my models. They'll have to come with me."

She was worried. There was no doubt that Ayame was amazing. But she wondered if Sesshoumaru had mentioned the Amanda scene. She didn't, that was for sure. Did Zukia think that all her models where elephants?

"Brooke…how well a relationship does Zukia have with her son?" Kagura asked quietly.

"Sesshoumaru? The only time I ever hear them talk is when she's sending him off to find prospects." She answered. She hadn't heard that he had visited Kagura's show apparently.

"Has he said anything bad? Like, maybe, the outfits are in bad tastes or that the models aren't appealing?"

"Kagura, that man never has anything nice to say about anything. He once asked me if someone had run my black widow thread silk had been run through the mud."

"Why did he ask that?" Kagura asked appalled. Everyone knew that Brooke had access to materials from around the world. Anything she wanted she got. She once made gloves from the fur of Howler monkeys from the rain forest. Last spring she ripped apart pillows from the Taj Mahal for its prized silk. She only used them for tiny flowers on the sheer lace that lay over a tiered skirt that Kagura designed. The point is, you don't just tell Brooke that her silk looks like it's been dragged through mud.

"That's the way he communicates. But don't worry. I made him a pair of lounging pants out of it. His mother will give it to him for his birthday."

"Way to put him in his place."

"I know. So tickets for fourteen people?"

"Yes, me, Ayame, and my twelve models. Why?"

"I'm sending them to your phone right now."

I think this is a good stopping point. Besides the fact that I'm going to try to update on as many stories as I can before I have to go back. It's not like I _enjoy _leaving all of you hanging.

Sincerely, _straighjacket_


End file.
